


Knight and Dawn

by TaleasOldasTimeandSpace



Category: Knight and Day (2010), Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Gen, happy fiftieth story to me!, pay no attention to the plot holes behind the curtain, pixiepine roadtrip extravaganza, the death of lots of faceless baddies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-06 23:31:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11046621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaleasOldasTimeandSpace/pseuds/TaleasOldasTimeandSpace
Summary: All Dawn wanted to do was get a flight home so that she could make the dress fitting for her sister's wedding.  She did not ask to have her life threatened repeatedly, nor did she plan on being adopted by a secret agent who was more like Sean Connery as Henry Jones, Sr. than James Bond.  If Henry Jones, Sr. was good with guns, that was.





	Knight and Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> I briefly flirted with writing this for Meredith Anne Bull's Strange Magic contest on tumblr, but wasn't able to get it done in time. Writing it as an Ao3 50th Story Special seemed like a good subsitute.

The first thing Dawn saw when she opened her eyes was a post-it note stuck to her bedside lamp.  She blinked at it, trying to decide why it felt off, before she realized A:  She didn’t make a habit of sticking post-it notes on her furniture, and even if she did, B:  The dark, spiky writing that was so at odds with the hot-pink flower-shaped note was most definitely not her own, and finally C:  Her last memories were of standing in a cornfield with Bog after the plane crash.

She sat straight up in bed.  The plane crash!  Everyone on the plane was dead, except for her and Bog.  And Bog!  He had drugged her, the—the _meanie!_   Well, that explained what she was doing at home, anyway.  He must have taken her home after she lost consciousness.  As well he should—it was the absolute least he could do after drugging her.  She peeled the note of the lamp and squinted at it.  _Remember, you can’t tell anyone about me._   Yep, definitely Bog.  She rolled her eyes.  Like she was going to tell anyone that she’d been on a flight with a man who’d single-handedly killed everyone else on the plane, landed said plane in a cornfield in the middle of nowhere, and then drugged her before tucking her safely in her own bed.  Even if she did talk, no one would believe her.

A banging on her door made her jump.  _‘Dawn!  Dawn, are you there?’_

Oh, right.  Except for Marianne.

Dawn hopped out of bed and skidded down the hall to the door.  There was another note stuck just under the peephole.  _If you talk, I’ll come back and rip your wings off._   Tsk.  Boggy was _so_ dramatic.  If he wanted to hurt her, he would never have saved her from the plane and then brought her home and put her to bed.  Which raised the question of _how_ exactly he even found her home, but he was some kind of spy, right?  They probably didn’t let people graduate from spy-school if they didn’t know how to find and break into innocent people’s houses.  She snatched the post-it off the door and stuffed it in her pocket with the other one before opening the door just as her sister started another round of pounding.

‘Dawn!  Thank goodness!’  Marianne grabbed her in a rib-bruising hug.  ‘I saw on the news about your flight, and then you weren’t answering your phone!  _Why weren’t you answering your phone?’_ she demanded, shaking her for emphasis.

Dawn faked an unconvincing yawn.  ‘Oh, well, I was really tired when I got in last night, so I just went straight to bed.  Jet lag, you know.’

Marianne raised a single eyebrow.  ‘It was a three-hour flight.’

‘Okay, fine!  I was on the plane, there were only ten other people, including the crew, and everyone was trying to kill this one guy, Bog, but he took them all out single-handed and managed to land the plane in a cornfield after the pilots got accidentally shot.  Then he gave me something that knocked me out, and I woke up just a couple of minutes ago to you trying to break down my door.’  Crossing her arms, Dawn glared at her sister.  ‘Happy?’

Marianne blinked.  Then blinked again.

‘Marianne?’  She was still frozen, no movement other than the blinking.  ‘Okay, now you’re starting to scare me.’

‘Who did you say landed the plane?’  Marianne’s voice was eerily calm.

‘Ummm, Bog.  Bog King.  Why?’

Marianne paled, but pasted on a smile.  It looked painful.  ‘Oh, no reason.  I thought maybe it was someone I knew.’

‘You know a guy who can kill ten other guys and crash-land an airplane in a cornfield?’  Dawn knew her sister was into weapons and fighting and such, but that seemed a trifle extreme.  Besides, Roland would have a conniption at the very idea of Marianne association with somebody like Boggy.

‘Pft.  Obviously not.  It’s just a really common name, that’s all.’

Dawn blinked slowly.  ‘It really isn’t.’

‘Right.  Well.  Oh, drat, look at that!’  Marianne pulled her phone out of her pocket.  ‘Work.  Sorry, Dawn, gotta take this.’

‘Your phone didn’t ring,’ Dawn stated flatly.

‘Yes, it did, I just had it on vibrate.  Just a sec.’

Dawn eyed her sister narrowly as Marianne pressed the phone to her ear and moved down the sidewalk.  She knew Marianne sometimes considered her naive, even gullible, in an affectionate, older-sister kind of way.  But to expect her to buy that ridiculous line about taking a work call was borderline insulting.

‘So I have to go in for a bit—’

_‘What?’_

‘I know, sorry.  There’s been a mix-up in accounting.’

‘But we’re supposed to go to a dress fitting.  You’re getting married in a week, Marianne.’

‘I _know_ , Dawn.  It’s my wedding.  Sheesh.  I’ll be back in plenty of time.  I just need to get this straightened out.  In the meantime, promise me you won’t go anywhere with anyone you don’t know.’

Dawn raised an eyebrow.  Marianne was acting weird.  Well, weirder than usual.  ‘What’s _that_ supposed to mean?’

‘Nothing.  It doesn’t mean anything.  Look, just stay here ’til I get back, and we’ll go to the fitting together.  Everything will be fine, I promise.’

‘Why wouldn’t it be fine?’

‘No reason.’  Marianne gave her a hug and pressed a kiss to her forehead.  ‘Love you!  See you in a bit.’

Dawn shook her head as she watched Marianne drive off.  The closer they got to the wedding, the more jittery Marianne got.  Sometimes she wondered if Marianne was getting cold feet or something.

She’d asked Marianne if she was having second thoughts once, but Marianne insisted she was as goopily in love with Roland as ever.  (She didn’t say goopy; that was Dawn’s term.  Dawn might be overly romantic and view the world through a rosy haze, but she could still recognize goop when she saw it.)

She was still frowning thoughtfully into space when Roland pulled up, saying Marianne had called to ask him to give Dawn a ride to the dress shop.  It was odd that Marianne hadn’t told Dawn, but maybe she was distracted with accounting troubles.  Anyway, she’d said not to go with strangers, and Roland certainly wasn’t a stranger.  It should be fine.

* * *

 

It was not fine.

It was so not fine.

Dawn concentrated fiercely on her driving, blessing Marianne for insisting on teaching her offensive driving.  It was taking every trick Marianne had ever taught her to keep from crashing.  Dawn was generally more interested in tinkering with cars rather than driving them—she liked to joke that she was Q to Marianne’s Bond, providing the cool cars for her sister’s mad driving skills—but she was managing to not die horribly while speeding down the wrong side of the road.  That would be difficult by itself, but she was also steering over the dead body of the Man in Black that had snatched her from the dress shop.

And because driving over a dead body down the wrong side of the road apparently wasn’t terrifying enough, she was doing it all while trying to see around Bog, who was plastered across her windshield, shouting instructions she couldn’t hear and shooting at the cars behind her.

All she’d wanted to do was try on pretty dresses with her sister.  How had she come to this?

‘Dawn!’ Bog yelled.  ‘You have t’open th’door!’

‘No I don’t!’ she yelled back.  ‘I have to not die!  If I take my hands of the wheel I will die!’

‘Yer gonna die if you _don’t open th’door!’_

She tightened her grip until her knuckles shone white.  ‘You can’t prove that!’

‘DAWN HAVENS, OPEN THE DOOR!’

With a despairing wail, Dawn managed to wrench the door open.  Several things happened at once after that.  The door was promptly torn off by a passing car and went sailing into the car chasing them.  The car flipped spectacularly and came sailing over their heads.  Bog managed to duck just in time to avoid getting decapitated.  At the same time, Dawn moved the dead MiB’s foot from the gas to the brake.  Bog, in some mysterious Secret Agent move, used the abrupt change in momentum to swing himself off the windshield and into the car, pulling the MiB out as he did so.  Dawn had the nagging feeling he’d broken several laws of physics in the process, but at least she wasn’t responsible for steering the car upstream through traffic anymore.  She pressed her head into the back of Bog’s seat and concentrated on hanging on for dear life.

She could feel him swerving through traffic much more smoothly than she’d done, but she refused to lift her head or open her eyes until he brought them to a halt in a flourish of squealing brakes.  Even then, she took several seconds to enjoy breathing the peaceful, non-fiery-death air before opening her eyes to take stock of the situation.  Bog had already hopped out of the car and was methodically reloading his extensive personal armory.  He caught her watching him and shot her a tight grin.  ‘Yer driving wasn’t bad.  Ah mean, it wasn’t Steve McQueen or anythin’, but you did manage t’keep us from crashin’, so, yeah.’  He patted her arm awkwardly.  ‘Good job.’

Now that she was no longer in immediate danger of dying, Dawn could feel her eyes starting to sting.  ‘Marianne taught me,’ she sniffed.

‘Yer sister?’

She nodded.

‘Good fer her, then.’

‘Yeah, Marianne’s awesome.’  Dawn’s voice was going thready, and she blinked rapidly, fighting to keep her tears at bay.

Bog noticed, eyes widening.  ‘Yer… Yer not gonna cry, are you?’

She shook her head, even as the first tear trickled down her face.

‘No, no, don’t do that.  Listen, yer drivin’ was fantastic!  An’ yer timin’ wi’ th’door?  Superb!’

She let out a choked whimper.

‘An’ yer dress!  It’s…’  He waved one hand, face screwing up as if he’d tasted something sour.  ‘Lovely.’

With a watery hiccup, she threw herself into his arms and sobbed.  She could feel Bog stiffen, but at that point she didn’t care.  It was his fault they were in this mess, and he could darn well provide her a little human comfort.  Besides, it wasn’t as if she _wanted_ her natural reaction to stressful situations to be an uncontrollable urge to cry.  It wasn’t _her_ fault she’d been saddled with bad genes.

Not for the first time, she cursed the fact that she was the one who’d taken after their dad and not Marianne.

When she’d wound down to sporadic sniffles, Bog leaned back.  ‘Better?’

She nodded.

‘All done, then?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Good.  In that case, we kinda need t’get back t’runnin’ fer our lives.’

‘Why?  Why _we_?  I didn’t _do_ anything!  If I just tell them that, they’ll let me go home.’  His face wasn’t reassuring.  ‘Right?’

‘Ah’m sorry, Dawn, but you can’t go home just yet.’

‘But—’

‘They think yer associated wi’ me now, an’ they’re not gonna leave you alone until this is settled.  Right now, on yer own, yer chances o’ survival are about here.’  He held out a hand at waist level.  ‘Wi’ me, they’re here,’ he added, lifting his hand above his head.  ‘Wi’ me,’ he shook the hand at his head, ‘wi’out me,’ he moved the hand back to waist-level.  ‘ _With_ me—’ back to head ‘—wi’out me’ back to waist.  _‘With me—’_

She grabbed his hand.  ‘Yeah, okay, I get it.  Stick with you or I’ll die.  Enough with the visual aids already.’

‘Great.’  He adjusted his grip on her hand and started running, pulling her along behind him.

‘Thanks for the hug, Boggy.’

‘Bog.’

* * *

 

‘This is bad, isn’t it?’

Bog glared at the empty shipping container as if it had personally insulted his mother.  ‘Yeah.  This is very bad.’

The empty shipping container wasn’t supposed to be empty.  It was _supposed_ to be the temporary home of Bog’s genius friend, Sunny Feck, inventor of the superbattery known as the Imp, and inadvertent reason that Dawn’s life now resembled a knock-off Bond flick.  The plan had been to collect Sunny and deliver him safely to the proper authorities, clearing Bog’s name and sending the real traitors to jail.  Unfortunately, Sunny had rabbited, leaving behind nothing but a cot, mini-fridge, microwave, and a collection of math-themed graffiti.

‘So where’d he go?’

‘Ah don’t know yet, but Sunny’s smart.  If he had t’leave, he’ll have left a message fer me.  Ah just need t’find it.’

‘Okay.  I’ll just wait over here then, shall I?’

Bog waved a distracted hand, already deep into trying to decipher Sunny’s notes.  Dawn started wandering around the abandoned factory, pausing occasionally to read packaging labels and examine leftover bits of gears and machinery.   If she had her tools and enough time, she could probably find enough spare parts to build a decent getaway vehicle.  She could almost see the look on Bog’s face when she presented him with her mechanical masterpiece.  Somehow, she didn’t think he’d appreciate her genius.  Oh well.  It wasn’t like they were going to be hanging around long enough for her to build anything, anyway.

That became apparent when Bog materialized beside her just in time to shoot the ninja wannabe who had his gun raised to shoot her.  Dawn dove to the floor with a shriek as the warehouse erupted into a firefight.  Ah, for her lost, innocent youth when she could go a whole day without somebody trying to kill her.

‘D’you think you could stop screamin’?  It’s ruinin’ mah concentration!’

Dawn lifter her head from the shelter of her arms to glare at Bog.  ‘Oh, I’m sorry my nearly dying is distracting for you!’  Marianne might be the snark-master of the family, but Dawn could hold her own in a snark war.  They’d grown up in the same house, after all.

‘Nobody’s gonna die if Ah can focus long enough t’take care o’these guys!’

That wasn’t nearly as reassuring as he seemed to think it was.  ‘Could you please stop shooting people?!’

He knelt beside her.  ‘Okay, Ah’ll talk t’them in a civilized manner.’

‘Thank you.’  She beamed at him.

‘Then Ah’ll shoot them.’

‘Boggy!’

‘Bog!’  He handed her a gun.  ‘Stay here.  Ah’ll be right back.’

‘Where are you going?!’ she hissed.

‘Oh, y’know.  T’talk t’them.’  He shot her a slow, evil grin that showed off his crooked teeth before disappearing into the shelves.

A disturbing quiet fell over the warehouse for about twelve seconds.  Dawn was almost able to fool herself into believing that maybe Bog was actually talking to them, when gunshots and screams erupted all around.  She jumped, clutching the gun to her chest and looking around wildly, trying to determine if and when somebody was coming to kill her.

 _Dawn Havens, I taught you better gun safety than that!_  The voice in her head sounded suspiciously like Marianne, but it did have a point.  She adjusted her grip on the gun, taking the safety off and laying her finger beside the trigger before pointing it up and away from her.  The last thing she needed was to accidentally shoot off her own toe.  Or worse, Boggy’s head.

This time when Bog appeared beside her, she managed to keep from screaming.  At least, until she saw the ninja behind him, preparing to shoot Boggy in the back.  She might have squealed a little then, but she also put a bullet in the ninja’s shoulder, incapacitating him enough for Bog to knock him out.

Bog straightened up and blinked at her.  ‘Thanks,’ he said, sounding slightly dazed.

She grinned, a little wobbly, but a grin all the same.  ‘No problem.  So now what?’

He shook himself.  ‘Right.  They’re gonna gas us in a minute, so here, drink this.’  He handed her a tiny bottle.

She eyed it suspiciously.  ‘What is it?’

‘Brotine-Zero.  It’ll counteract th’effects o’ th’gas.’

‘Okay.’  With a shrug, she knocked it back.  ‘Where’s yours?’ she asked, when she realized he was just standing there, watching her expectantly.  As she spoke, she noticed the edges of her vision were going dark.  _Wait a minute...NOT AGAIN!_   ‘Boggy!’

‘Bog.’  It was the last thing she heard before losing consciousness.

* * *

 

When Dawn opened her eyes, she was no longer in the warehouse.  She wasn’t sure where she was, exactly.  All she could tell was that she was on a pretty swanky train that was currently moving through a snowy forest.  There hadn’t been snow or forests—or trains, for that matter—anywhere near that warehouse.  She sat up, catching sight of Bog sitting across the compartment from her.

She pointed an accusing finger at him.  ‘You drugged me again!’

‘Dawn—’

‘I can’t believe you drugged me again!’

‘You weren’t handlin’ it well.’

‘Excuse _me_ , Mr. Grumpy Super Spy, I was handling it _fine!’_

‘Actually, you were.  Disturbingly fine.’  He squinted at her suspiciously.  ‘Where’d you learn all that stuff, anyway?’

‘Marianne, of course.’

‘O’ course.  Yer sister’s scary, isn’t she?’

‘Very.  But that’s beside the point.’  She leaned forward and smacked his arm with the back of her hand.  ‘It’s not nice to drug people, Boggy!’

‘Bog.’  By now, the correction was more habit than actual irritation.   ‘Look, we were about t’be overrun, an’ druggin’ you was th’only way t’keep you safe.  We got captured, and if you’d been awake, they would’ve just shot you.’

That was annoyingly logical.  Drat him.  ‘I suppose that makes sense,’ she admitted grudgingly.   She glanced around, finally taking proper stock of her surroundings.  ‘Where are we, anyway?’

‘Austria.’

 _‘Austria?!’_   She shot to her feet, her voice reached decibels that surprised even herself.  Bog winced as he got up as well, no doubt preparing to calm her down.  She didn’t want to be calmed down.  Reaching up—way up—she grabbed his face, hauling him down so she could glare at him eye-to-eye.  ‘Boggy!’

‘Bog.’  

‘I’ve been in a plane crash, several firefights, drugged repeatedly, and my sister is getting married in less than a week! _I need to go home!’_ she finished, shaking his head for emphasis.

‘You’ll be home in time fer the weddin’, Ah promise.  Sunny’s on th’train—he left a message fer me back at th’warehouse.  We just need t’pick him up an’ get him t’safety.  You’ll probably be on a flight home by t’morrow!’

She narrowed her eyes.  ‘I better be.’  Giving him one last shake, she let him go.  He sprang up to his full height, like a branch that had been bent back and released abruptly.  ‘So, what does Sunny look like, anyway?’

* * *

 

Sunny Feck was _adorable_.

He didn’t look anything like she’d expected.  For some reason, she’d been picturing him as a weedy man with broken glasses and a wispy beard.  In person, Sunny wasn’t wispy at all.  He was compact, maybe three inches shorter than her, though his gravity-defying hair more than made up the difference, and he looked like he should be a professional athlete—parkour, maybe?  Did parkour even have professional athletes?—rather than a genius supernerd.  He even had freckles, and shot her a shy, blushing grin when Bog introduced them.

Adorable.

They were holed up in a rather seedy motel in Salzburg, waiting for Bog to determine whether or not the Embassy was compromised by the same agent who’d framed him for killing Sunny’s handler.  Sunny had ordered a pizza, and Dawn took advantage of the questionable plumbing to take the first shower she’d had in days.

Just as she was finishing in the bathroom, the door of their room slammed open with a bang, and Marianne— _Marianne_ —barged through, a gun in either hand.   Her eyes swept the room.  When she caught sight of Bog, she leveled both guns at him.  ‘Where’s my sister, you treacherous cockroach?!’

Sunny fell off the bed with a cry.  Dawn threw herself in front of Bog, spreading her arms wide to shield as much of him as possible.  It wasn’t much.  Even seated, he was an inch taller than her.  ‘Leave Boggy alone!’

‘Bog.’  He stood up and gently nudged her out of the way, holding his hands up to look as unthreatening as possible.  He wasn’t really successful, poor tree, but he tried.

‘Dawn!’  Marianne holstered one gun, keeping the other trained on Bog as she reached out and pulled Dawn to her.  ‘Are you okay?’

‘I’m _fine_ , Marianne.’  She hugged her sister, then pulled away and frowned.  ‘But what are you _doing_ here?  And how did you find me?  I thought we were off the grid,’ she added, glancing at Bog for confirmation.

Marianne scrubbed a hand through her hair.  ‘I, uh, may have put a tracker in your necklace,’ she said sheepishly.

Dawn gasped, her hand flying to the _Sisters, Best Friends_ necklace Marianne had given her for her birthday several years ago.  ‘I can’t believe you put a tracker on me!  Don’t you trust me?!’

Marianne rolled her eyes.  ‘You got kidnapped by traitorous spy, after nearly dying in a plane crash cause by the same spy.  Just think about that chain of events for a moment and get back to me.’

‘Well, when you put it like _that_ , it sounds bad.’

‘See?’  Marianne folded her arms, looking smug.

‘But Boggy’s _not_ a traitor!  He saved my life, and Sunny’s, too!  He was framed!’  Dawn cocked her head.  ‘And you _still_ haven’t told me what you’re doing here.  Putting trackers in my necklace, kicking down doors, waving guns around?  What’s going on, Marianne?’

‘It’s actually kind of a funny story…’

‘Then why don’t you tell me.  So I can laugh.’

‘Well…’

Suddenly, Bog slapped his forehead.  ‘Marianne Havens, o’ _course!_   Ah can’t believe Ah didn’t realize it b’fore!’

‘Realize what?’  Dawn glanced back and forth between Marianne and Bog.  ‘Will someone _please_ tell me what’s going on?’

‘Yer sister’s a spy.’

‘What?’

‘One o’ th’best.’

_‘What?’_

Marianne sighed and holstered her gun.  ‘It’s true.’  She grinned weakly and did jazz hands.  ‘Surprise?’

‘I…I can’t believe you’re a spy.  Why didn’t you tell me?!’

‘Dawn, you watch TV.  You know we’re not allowed to tell anyone.’

‘That explains why you’re so paranoid.  And why you made me learn all those crazy survival skills.  Which have come in pretty handy this last week, so thanks for that.  Wait, does Roland know?’

‘Well, yes—’

‘WHY DOES ROLAND KNOW AND I DON’T?’

‘He’s my partner—’

‘YOU’RE MARRYING YOUR SPY PARTNER?  THAT’S SO ROMANTIC!’

Marianne covered Dawn’s mouth.  ‘Could you please stop yelling?’  Dawn huffed, but nodded.  ‘Thank you.  And actually, the wedding’s off.’

Dawn sucked in a breath to yell again, but Marianne slapped her hand back over her mouth, so all that came out was a muffled exclamation.

Bog was frowning.  ‘Yer partner’s not Roland Fitzgerald, is he?’

‘Uh, yeah, why?’  Marianne pulled her hand away from Dawn’s mouth, shooting her a dirty look.  Hey, if Marianne didn’t want her hand licked, she shouldn’t have left it over Dawn’s mouth.  Oldest baby sister trick in the book.

‘He’s th’one who tried t’kidnapped Sunny, steal th’Imp, an’ frame me fer murder an’ treason.’

‘He did _what?’_ Dawn gasped.

Marianne seemed to be having a bit of a meltdown.  ‘That pig!  That cheating, chattering, SON OF A—’

This time it was Dawn who slapped a hand over Marianne’s mouth.  ‘I thought we agreed no yelling?’ she asked sweetly.  Marianne’s eyes narrowed, and Dawn snatched her hand away before she could return the hand-licking.  _So_ gross if you weren’t the one doing the licking.  ‘So wait, are you saying you didn’t know about the double-crossing?  Then why did you call off the wedding?’

‘Not long after you and the trigger-happy tree here left town in a hail of bullets and car crashes, I caught him cheating on me with one of the support staff.  We’re supposed to be working this case together, but things have been…strained since then.  That’s why I’m here alone.  Roland’s checking the high-end hotels.  I don’t think he could fathom hiding out in a dump like this.  Good call, King,’ she added with a grudging nod to Bog.

‘Yer approval has made mah night.’

‘No wonder Roland’s been so squirrely lately!  I just assumed it was because of the cheating, but he must be desperate to catch you before the agency does.  Then he could just kill you, claim self-defense, and take the battery for himself.’

Dawn danced over to Bog and hugged his arm.  ‘That’s great!  We just go to the embassy and tell them the whole story!  They’ll arrest Roland, Sunny will be safe, and Boggy…’  She trailed off.  Both Marianne and Bog were shaking their heads.  ‘What?’

‘We can’t just walk off th’street an’ tell them one o’ their best agents is a traitor.  They’re certainly not gonna take mah word fer it.’

‘But Sunny was there!  And Marianne will vouch for you!’

‘I didn’t actually see Roland,’ Sunny said, waving an apologetic slice of pizza.  Apparently, once he’d determined that there wasn’t going to be any immediate bloodshed, he’d quite sensibly decided not to let the food get cold.  ‘I was staring down the barrel of one of his henchmen’s guns when Bog saved my neck.’

‘And Roland’s the lead on this case.  He’s a favourite with the agency, and he’s managed to convince them my judgement is impaired due to my worry over your kidnapping—not that I wasn’t worried, but for crying out loud, I’m still the best agent they’ve ever had!’  She caught the matching raised eyebrows from both Dawn and Bog.  ‘Anyway.  The point is, they’re not going to take the word of any of us over Roland.  What we really need to do is catch him in the act.’

Dawn crossed her arms.  ‘So what are we going to do?’

Bog grinned, slow and sharklike.  ‘We _could_ just shoot him.’

‘I like how you think, King.’  Marianne’s grin was just as terrifying.  ‘I’ll flip you for the shot,’ she offered generously.

Dawn flopped on the bed beside Sunny and grabbed her own slice of pizza.  ‘Somehow I don’t think that would actually solve anything.’

‘It would make _me_ feel better,’ Marianne and Bog said in unison.

‘Your murdery kindred spirit thing is cute and all—’

‘Cute isn’t exactly the word I’d use,’ Sunny muttered.

‘—but it’s not going to help.  In fact, it would just make things worse.’

‘But I’d feel better inside,’ Marianne protested.

Dawn shot her a death glare.  ‘Bog would still be framed, and you’d probably get sent to prison right along with him.’

Bog shrugged.  ‘’S’okay, Ah’ve got an island off th’coast o’ Scotland.  Off th’grid.  They’d never find me.’  He eyed Marianne for a moment, then added, ‘Ah suppose you could come too.’

Marianne put a hand on her chest and fluttered her eyelashes.  ‘Why, Mr. King, I do declare!’

Sunny leaned over to Dawn.  ‘Are they… _flirting?’_

‘I…I think so.’

‘Huh.  Do you think they realize it?’

‘I doubt it.  It took forever for Marianne to realize Roland was interested in her, and people make Boggy nervous if he’s not shooting them.’  She cleared her throat loudly, making Marianne and Bog jump and blush.  ‘I have an idea.  You’re probably not going to like it, but it’s our best shot.’

* * *

 

Marianne and Bog _hated_ the idea, but they also agreed they couldn’t come up with anything better.

Which was how Dawn found herself in yet another high-speed car chase.  In Pamplona, Spain.  In the middle of the Running of the Bulls.

Her evil plan was working perfectly.

Marianne had pretended to turn Bog in to the agency back in Salzburg, leading to a dramatic ‘escape’ and chase that ended with him faking his death by ‘drowning’ in the Salzach.  Roland fell for it beautifully, and had taken Sunny with him to Spain in order to sell him and his plans for the battery to a local arms dealer.  Marianne and Dawn followed them to Spain, while Bog took advantage of being ‘dead’ to infiltrate the arms dealer’s guards ahead of Roland’s arrival.  Dawn had hidden in the bushes and recorded the meeting and Bog and Marianne’s dramatic rescue of Sunny, and now they were trying to get back to the waterfront and Marianne and Dawn’s getaway vehicle.  Which was a seaplane.  Because apparently Marianne could fly, as well.

Sunny was shooting out the window while Dawn tried to avoid running over pedestrians or be run over by bulls.  She was doing her bit better than he was, but then, cars _were_ her thing.  Guns most definitely were not Sunny’s, poor marshmallow.  Still, he didn’t have to do a whole lot beyond making things more confusing for their pursuers, and he was doing that splendidly.  They had Marianne and Bog on a motorbike behind them to do the actual sharpshooting.

‘What is your sister _doing?’_

Sunny’s incredulous question made Dawn glance in the mirror, and she very nearly swerved into a bull.  Marianne had migrated from her perch behind Bog to wrapped around his chest, legs locked around his waist while she unloaded the magazines of both guns at the cars behind them.  ‘Trying to give me grey hair, by the looks of it,’ she said faintly.

‘They’re made for each other, aren’t they?’

‘I think you’re probably right about that.’  She snuck another look in the mirror.  ‘I don’t know whether to die of embarrassment or glee.’  Shooting a sideways glance at Sunny, she added, ‘Wanna be my plus-one to the wedding?’

He grinned at her.  ‘That depends.  Will that be the only wedding we attend together?’

‘With any luck, absolutely not.’

Getting on that plane with Boggy was the best decision she’d ever made.

**Author's Note:**

> Bog and Marianne insist that they're just friends, nobody's getting married, 'For crying out loud, Dawn, I only JUST called off my engagement to Roland!'
> 
> Dawn and Sunny just smile knowingly.
> 
> They get the footage to the agency, and Roland goes to prison for a very long time. Bog decides he likes being dead, however, and goes into semi-retirement on his island. Dawn, Marianne, and Sunny join him, and Dawn, after snooping through Bog's phone, enlists Marianne's help in bringing Griselda Knight from her safe house to be reunited with her long-lost son. She takes one look at Bog (formerly Alan Knight, but they all agree Bog King sounds much better) and Marianne's interactions, and immediately signs on to help Dawn and Sunny plan the wedding.
> 
> With so many people with specialized skills living in one place, semi-retirement is less retirement and more periodically hiring out to help people who need it. If you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can find them...
> 
> Come say hi on [tumblr](https://taleasoldastime-andspace.tumblr.com/)! Same bat-time, same bat-channel.
> 
> Namarie!


End file.
